Secrets of a VATS Cameraman
by VioletPistol
Summary: Stupidity. That's what you need to know about this. Courtesy of the prompt on Falloutkinkmeme: "I want outtakes courtesy of the V.A.T.S camera-man. I want these outtakes to be scenes or simply quotes from funny movies."
1. Chapter 1

**I don't even... This is so. _Stupid_.**

**I was browsing the kinkmeme's wares last night and came across a beaut of a prompt, and I MURDERED IT. In the bad way.**

**There will be more of these... I guess. A series of weird, one-shots that I birth out from twisted plot bunnies.**

**I apologize, in advance.  
><strong>

* * *

><p><em>Video footage 00423, marked July 19th 2281.<em>

_Outtakes from companion interviews with Mr. New Vegas as required promotion for Independent New Vegas._

_Interview 001, Rose of Sharon Cassidy, "Cass"._

"Okay, we're ready!"

Cass squints suspiciously into the camera lens, her lips pinching a burning cigarette as her cowboy boots tap idly on the desktop in front of her.

The room is dimly lit, to provide a certain mood obviously, with a grey cloud of cigar smoke clinging to the ceiling. A shot glass holding an amber liquid slides along the desktop and nudges her knee, a smile lighting the woman's face before she nods to an unseen man across the desk from her.

"Thanks." She downs it with ease, a faint pink already lighting her freckled cheeks. "Just what I needed."

"You're very welcome, Miss Cassidy." The trademark drawl seems to smile without the need for facial expressions, the hand of Mr. New Vegas appearing briefly to tap the debris from his cigar into an ashtray. "So, you seem to be very close with Courier Six, I'm assuming you support her aims to make New Vegas independent?"

Cass made a face, though she seemed to think over her answer carefully as she downed another shot like it was mere water. "All you need to know is that _I_ support _her_. She's a good kid, alright?"

"Of course, of course." Mr. New Vegas soothes, visibly winding the woman down a notch with the calm of his tone. "That isn't the reason you're here though. The people of the Mojave admire you Miss Cassidy, and we'd _all_ like to know more about _you_."

"Me?" She snorts skeptically, grinning into the camera as if sharing some private joke with the viewer. "What kinda stuff?"

"Well… What are your favorite hobbies? Do you have any special skills? What do you do for _fun_, Miss Cassidy?"

Cass seems to suppress a belch behind a closed fist, shrugging apologetically into the camera before leaning back into the weathered chair. "For fun? I'm _all_ about havin' fun."

"What about an example?"

She paused, squinting up at the ceiling as she thought.

"Get a couple whiskey's in me, start a fire in someone's Brahmin pen… Maybe go to The Tops and take my pants off." Another shot, cheeks brightening with each passing second. "_Sometimes _it gets out of hand, but hey, what the fuck else am I supposed to do with my time when Six isn't draggin' me around?"

"Uhh…" Mr. New Vegas trails off, the camera giving a slight shift, almost like a nervous tick.

"In fact, one morning-," She breaks off with an unladylike giggle-snort, shaking her head as she downs another shot. "One morning, I woke up and I _shit_ a baby _mole rat_—like, a _fetus_. But what I can't get is the damn thing is still alive."

Mr. New Vegas gives a nervous chuckle and the camera begins to shake as it's taken off the tripod.

"So now, I've got a shit covered mole rat fetus running around the suite and I don't know what to name it, and of course Arcade is havin' a bitch-fit-,"

…

* * *

><p><em>Interview 002, Craig Boone.<em>

The tape roll starts in on what seems to be a conversation mid-way through the interview.

Boone is leaning back in his chair; however he looks anything but relaxed, his large arms crossed tightly across his chest. The lights provide a glare over his sunglasses, making it hard to see his true expression, besides the thinly set line of his lips.

"So we know about your past with the NCR's prestigious First Recon, and that's quite the story, but now the listeners, and myself of course, would very much like to hear about _you_, Craig."

Boone seems to stiffen even more then previously thought possible, his head briefly turning towards a door off camera, as if thinking of leaving mid-interview.

"Oh nothing too private, simply tell us a little bit about your personal likes separate from Courier Six and why everyone seems to be so infatuated with _Craig Boone_."

Boone shifted rigidly in his chair, sighing loudly through his nose before scratching the back of his neck nervously.

"Well… I guess people like me 'cause I'm… quiet. And I rarely miss. That's why Six likes me, I think…"

"Try not to think about Courier Six. We want to know about you, Craig." Mr. New Vegas prompted gently.

Boone looked up sharply, as if in a panic at the notion of separating his thoughts from the Courier. He looked around him, as if thinking he would be punished if he spoke out of turn.

His jaw tightened visibly as he took another deep breath, this time however he seemed to be trying to remember a line, as if on stage.

"I like… to eat Mutfruit icecream… And I really enjoy a nice pair of cargo pants." He began monotonously, frequently glancing into the camera, visibly sweating. "Arcade told me last week that I have the intelligence level of three, and am what some people call mentally retarded…"

"Okay, I can't work with this…" Mr. New Vegas sighs apologetically, his arm appearing as he pats Boone on the shoulder. "I'm sorry son, I don't know if you're ready for this."

"I like…" Boone trails off as the camera begins to fade off, the eyes behind the sunglasses desperately searching the room. "Desk."

...


	2. Chapter 2

_August 25th, 2281._

_Video footage 00567_

_Hidden recording of an argument between the Courier and companions, Presidential Suite, Lucky 38._

The camera shakes unsteadily as it films stealthily through the leaves of a fake house plant, focusing weakly on the people gathered at the dining table in the kitchen.

"This is just insane, I'm sure you must realize this!" Arcade sighs incredulously, eyeing the woman across the table that seemed to be overly interested in her fingernails instead of the conversation at hand. "You can't actually expect them to treat you like a human being! This is Legion we're talking about! You're a woman! You do realize what they do to women, right?"

"Sorry, Six, but Doc's right." Cass interjects with an apologetic grimace. "You fuck around with those boys too much anyway, what makes you think this isn't a trap?"

"Exactly!" Arcade's voice begins to rise, his glasses sliding frequently down the bridge of his nose, despite his best efforts to remain professional and composed. "This is going to end badly, but you never listen to me! Someone please talk some sense into her!"

"DON'T RAISE YOUR VOICE AT THE DINNER TABLE JIMMY ITS RUDE."

"I'm not!" Arcade shot back before he could actually lower his tone, sighing deeply as he squeezed his eyes shut.

"Don't yell at Lily!" Six suddenly shouted.

"I'm not yelling! Everyone, I'm not yelling right?"

"Both of you shut up." Cass moaned as she attempted to bury her head in her folded arms. "You're all drivin' me fuckin' nuts."

"OH DON'T USE THAT KIND OF LANGUAGE DEARIE, IT'S A BAD INFLUENCE ON LEO."

Cass narrowed her eyes at the massive nightkin across the table from her as Arcade and the Courier continued to yell at one another.

"What is the big deal? Are you saying I can't handle myself?" Six accused as Raul began to quietly sneak out of the room.

Boone looked back and forth between Arcade and the Courier, his brow drawn together deeply as he tried to concentrate.

"Don't get me wrong! I _love_ the ladies—I… oh, um wait…" Arcade trailed off momentarily before shaking his head. "Whatever, the point here is that you don't belong in a _Legion camp_!"

"JIMMY LOWER YOUR VOICE."

"I'm not raising it!" Arcade's voice cracked.

Boone suddenly pushed up loudly from his seat, sending his chair tumbling to the ground as he slammed his large hands on the table, his beret askew and his nostrils flared. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT WE'RE _YELLING ABOUT_!"

"Okay, everyone just, let's _calm_ down…" Veronica smiled nervously as she attempted to tower over the cacophony of loud voices echoing through the kitchen by imitating the quickened breathes suggested for women in labor. "Breathe, calm, happy…"

"**LOUD NOISES**!"

The camera cuts off in a panic as Six looks over her shoulder at the sound of a rustling Pre-war plant, her look of anger frozen as the tape stops.


	3. Chapter 3

_July 11th, 2281_

_Video footage 00489_

_The Tops Casino, post-confrontation with Benny, Leader of the Chairmen._

The camera focuses in on a table across the room, the chipper beat of a pre-war song booming through the theater as the performers on stage pound through the dance number.

At the table sits the Courier, looking exhausted and impatient as she speaks with her ghoul companion, Raul.

"Well, what did Boone say after we got back from Nellis? I never got a chance to see him."

Raul gave a shrug, scratching at a patch of flaking, scabbed skin as he smirked. "Well Boss, he kinda looked at me like he was scared, then he got _real_ stiff and said, 'You're not Six.'"

The Courier sighed in amusement at her companion's impression of the sniper, shaking her head as a man in a suit began to walk from the bar over to her table. She didn't seem to notice the approaching man as she took a swig of her beer, smiling at the ghoul. "It's really too bad about the… you know… retarded thing-,"

"_**COUGH**_." The man in the suit, after a quick zoom in of the lens, turned out to be Swank. He was standing awkwardly beside Six, his handsome face illuminated in the calm lights of the room.

The Courier shut her eyes in impatience, breathing deeply through her nose as the Chairmen continued to stand at the table-side, awaiting her attention.

"_LOOK OVER HERE_." Swank coughed once more, a beam lighting his face.

The Courier finally looked up from Raul's amused expression, giving the man standing next to her a stiff smile as she nodded her acknowledgement. "Yes, Swank?"

Swank straightened up with an idiotic looking grin on his face, dusting off his suit lapels as he cleared his throat. "Yeah, I would like to extend to you an invitation to the pants party."

He continued to smile widely down at the Courier as the camera focused in on the scene eagerly, Six's face seeming to pause in confusion before she narrowed her eyes at Raul in a side-glance.

"Excuse me?"

Swank's face fell in something between anxiety and disappointment, as if he had been relying on her understanding, and he looked over his shoulder at the bar nervously.

"The-…uh… party. The pants-… Um. With the pants… The party with pants?"

Raul mumbled some quiet Spanish under his breath, glancing over at the camera with a smirk as he then hid his nose in his drink.

"Swank… Are you saying that there is a party in your pants and I'm invited?" Six attempted to help the now sweating man with a smile reserved usually for Boone and small children.

Swank's face twisted in thought before he grinned widely, snapping his fingers like guns at the Courier. "That's it, baby."

"Mhmm…" The Courier nodded, glancing over Swank's shoulder at the view of Benny sitting at the bar with several empty bottles in front of him, his unfocused, narrowed eyes watching the interaction at her table like a hawk. "Did Benny tell you to say this?"

Swank's smile grew a little forced as he seemed to fumble with how to react, shaking his head earnestly in denial as his teeth practically shined beneath the lights. "Yes."

"Okay…" Six nodded, the camera focusing in shakily on her pinched expression of irritation. "No, I don't want to go to a party in your pants."

"Alright!" Swank didn't seem affected by the denial, turning to shine his million dollar smile on the ghoul sitting next to her. "Eh bandito, you wanna go to a party in my pants?"

"No, kid."

"Well okay! Hey! Your loss Chief." Swank winked, though he didn't seem coherent enough to understand the situation, let alone where he was.

He then jogged back over to the bar a mere few feet away, engaging in a loud high-five with the leader of the chairmen, who seemed to be eyeing the Courier in satisfaction as he clenched his fist earnestly in victory.


	4. Chapter 4

_Video footage 00634_

_"The ED-E Incident"_

The film fades in sluggishly on the scene of The Courier lounging beside a dormant fire-pit, her eyebot whirring in absent circles above her head, the purr of its machinery giving the occasional chirp.

Her doctor companion, Arcade Gannon, is across from her, staring at the large, dripping bundle in her grip as if he were waiting for it to lunge at him. "I can't believe you're eating that…"

The Courier looks away from Lieutenant Gorobets' passing figure to stare out at the Fiends' territory across the road, various camp-fires creating a warm glow among the wrecked city.

"It's fucking delicious, Arcade, you oughta have a bite…" She waggles her eyebrows over at her friend, the grease on her lips creating a grimy shine to her face that had the Doctor grimacing. "A good God damn victory meal after taking out Nephi, if I do say so myself."

"Are… Are you even sure that's _edible_?"

"Shit yeah, Farber said so himself." The camera focuses in on the Courier as she takes another bite of the wrapped food, a sick brown liquid trailing down her forearms.

"…You got that recipe from Cook-Cook."

"Well the guy was named _Cook-Cook_… Must've been a great cook, right?" Six shrugged, taking one last mouthful of the grayish wrap before patting her belly and releasing a loud belch. "This Deathclaw burrito is _delicious_, but way too fuckin' filling."

Arcade watched in horror as Six tossed the food over her shoulder. The massive burrito made a weak arch in the air before landing on Bitter-root's beret, the Sniper's strong shoulders stiffening deeply as Corporal Betsy smirks widely and 10 of Spades looks on in revulsion.

The air is tense as Six suddenly realizes what she's done, gradually looking over her shoulder and studying the back of the NCR Sniper, chunks of yellowish meat and brown juices sliding down Bitter-root's neck and soaking into his uniform.

Suddenly he's up, shaking the remains of the exploded burrito from his beret and uniform vigorously as Betsy bursts out in loud, echoing cackles.

"What the fuck, Six?" Bitter-root exclaims, the loudest words anyone has ever heard him say since meeting him. He removes his beret with something of a crushed look passing over his face, studying the stained material with a clenched jaw. "Did you just throw that burrito at me?"

"Ah… I believe I did."

"Accidentally!" Arcade interjects nervously, eyeing the large rifle on the ex-Khan's back as the camera fights to focus in on all of the on-lookers.

"What are you, _high_? Didn't you see me behind you before you sat down?"

The Courier stood suddenly, though she didn't look as if she wanted to fight. Instead she held up her hands in easy surrender, the lens shaking as the camera-man edges closer to the scene. "Hey, I'm sorry, but that was a terrific throw, you gotta admit. Am I right, or am I right?"

She looks back to the camera for input, as if the audience would agree heartily, and holds a thumbs up as Bitter-root desperately tries to rub the grease from his coveted beret.

"This is my only God damn beret! My first—ah, fuck…" The camera cuts to Corporal Betsy briefly, focusing in unsteadily on her shit-eating grin before turning back to Six and the angered sniper. "You ruined the only thing I ever loved, Six, alright? I admit it."

There's a snort from the direction of Betsy and 10 of Spades, but the camera stays fervently focused on the tense stand off.

"What do you love? Huh?"

"Well, I love Deathclaw burritos, as of today." Six replies after a moment of thought, then turning to give her eyebot a gentle knock on his round metal chassis. "And of course, my friend ED-E here."

"Guess what?" Bitter-root snaps, snatching the floating robot from the air and tucking it under his arm before storming off towards the edge of the raised highway walls. "Now this is happening."

"Uh—excuse me!" Six calls out nervously after Bitter-root. "What're you doing to my robot?"

The camera focuses in greedily on Bitter-root's back as he holds the eyebot steady in front of him, then kicking the whirring eyebot so hard it rockets off to the other side of the highway, disappearing from sight as its chirp reverberates through the area.

"That's how I roll." Bitter-root growls, pointing a strong finger at Six's horrified expression before stomping off towards his previous seat.

"Ed-…" Six gasps, Arcade's expression curving in confusion as he watches the Courier fall to her knees dramatically, her arms stretched out towards the opposite side of the road. "_**NOOOOOO**_!"

Arcade sighs as the scream of the Courier carries on for at least a good minute, standing from his seat at the campfire and walking over to her, patting an awkward hand on her shoulder. "Six… it's just across the street…-"

"GET ME THE NCR SUPPORT RADIO!" Six exclaims, First Recon slowly beginning to move their camp to a safer part of the area as the Courier claws desperately at Arcade's jacket. "GET ME COLONEL HSU, ARCADE!"

Gravel crunching beneath combat boots sounds as the camera-man eagerly runs closer to the scene, focusing the lens in the Courier's reddened, streaming face. "GET THAT CAMERA _OUT OF MY FACE! __**ARCADE**_!"

"Ah, oh God…" Arcade panics as the camera whirrs to his expression, his glasses askew as he tries to keep hold of the emergency radio and hold a hand up to the camera lens. "Please, just, give us space?"

The camera view bounces as the man operating it backs away obediently, only to focus in on the scene of the sniffling Courier holding the radio to her ear impatiently.

A cough is heard on the other line, along with the clearing of a throat before finally a sleepy voice answers. "Colonel Hsu repor-,"

"_**BWAAHHH-AHHH-AHHHH-AHHH!**_" The Courier sobs dramatically into the receiver, the film briefly following Arcade's pinched expression of exhaustion before turning back to Six.

"Uh, Courier? Are you okay?" The Colonel asks hesitantly over the loud choking snivels of Six. "Have you been shot?"

"THE MAN PUNTED ED-E!" Six exclaimed, snot smearing over her arm as she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"Calm down, Six, breathe, breathe…."

"THE MAN! FROM FIRST RECON…"

"What did he do?"

"BITTER-ROOT, I HIT HIM WITH A BURRITO."

"Ah—uh… wait, a burrito?"

"THEN HE GRABBED ED-E AND… AND… **HE TOOK HIM! **_**HE TOOK HIM**_!" Six screeched, her voice cracking as she crawled on the ground and sunk into the dirt dramatically. "HE TOOK HIM WITH HIS FOOT! AND HE KICKED HIM! THAT'S WHAT HE DID!"

"Um, your eyebot? Someone punted him?"

"WAAHHH-AHHH-HAAA!" The Courier wailed, clutching the radio tightly as Arcade pinched the bridge of his nose tightly and attempted to breathe deeply. "HE WAS A GENTLEMAN… ED-E WAS A GENTLEMAN!"

"Six, listen, a robot can't be a gentleman…-"

"Wait lemme say something! Lemme say something…" Six interrupted the crackly radio voice, pausing for a moment before throwing her head back and letting out a gurgled scream that rose in pitches previously thought impossible for human vocal chords, the camera slowly focusing in on her widely opened mouth. "**AAEIIIIIIIIIIIII-IIIIIIIIIIIIUAGAGA-HAAG-HAAHGA-HG-AHGAH-GA-HGAH-GAH-GAG-HAH-GAH**!"

"Okay, Courier Six, that is enough! Do you have any idea what time it is? This line is for emergencies only!"

The camera then attempts to follow the receiver that Six hurtles from her grasp, only to flash back eagerly to her figure rolling in the dirt with her loud sobs and gurgles piercing the microphone dangerously.

However, the camera-man is momentarily distracted by a familiar chirp, slowly turning to focus in on an eyebot whirring casually over to the dramatic scene, just as the tape runs out...


	5. Chapter 5

_Video footage 00157_

_Discovery of a secret Legion camp… Post-Nipton confrontation._

"You gettin' that shit?" Six whispers off-camera as the film fades in, the mechanical whir of the lens sounds softly as it focuses in closely on the scene before them.

Vulpes, leader of the Frumentarii, stands with a troupe of heavily armed Legion soldiers. They seem to be crowded around some kind of radio transmitter, Vulpes' brow furrowing as he attempts to control the various knobs and buttons.

"Damn, _technology_…" He hisses under his breath, removing a hand from the machine to clutch at a bullet wound in his side. As the radio audibly crackles to life a soldier beside him gives a sigh of relief, the Legion men waiting patiently.

"Even your misses are deadly, Boone." Courier chuckles quietly in her observation of Vulpes' wound, the camera flashing briefly from the soldiers over to Six and her NCR sniper, laying side-by-side on the downside of the hill overlooking the Legion camp.

"Mm." Boone nods slowly as he takes a drink of some kind of substance in an old, beaten up canteen. "I just burnt my tongue."

The camera turns from the Courier's confused expression back to the Legion camp, just as a gruff voice comes over the radio below.

"I trust this is important, Vulpes, if you interrupt a _fucking meeting_ for it."

"It is, My Lord…" Vulpes winces as a medic rushes to his side, lifting his armor to examine the dripping bullet-wound. "Nipton has been compromised…"

"_What_?"

"We succeeded in the destruction of the NCR troops and Powder Gangers; however, we were attacked after securing the area." Vulpes replies, the camera focusing in on the Officer's calm expression as the medic digs the shrapnel from his side. "A sniper, most likely NCR from the accuracy, and…"

"And _what_, Vulpes? Spit it out."

The Courier's eager snort is heard quietly in the background, the camera seeming to represent her satisfaction as it zooms dramatically in on Vulpes' embarrassed expression.

"A woman, My Lord…"

A Legion Decanus suddenly lunges towards the radio, snatching the radio receiver from Vulpes grip.

"I hear their periods attract Yao Guai!" The Decanus exclaims to the radio as Vulpes attempts to wrench the receiver away from him awkwardly. "They can smell the menstruation!"

"Give me -… _that_!" Vulpes struggles, finally grabbing the radio out of the Decanus' grip, glaring after the man as other recruits begin dragging him away from the scene. "I apologize deeply, My Lord, this she-devil has the men confused."

"Hah! She-devil? Score." The Courier grins as the camera moves to her. She then nudges Boone and nods to the men below, rolling her eyes in disgust. "Those are the _ugliest_ effing skirts I've ever seen."

Boone narrows his eyes as Six turns back to the Legion camp in interest, the NCR sniper's expression contorting in concentration while the camera focuses slowly on his face, the eyes behind his shades darting between the Courier and the Legion men.

The camera then pans out as Boone turns back to the camp, a slight smile on the quiet man's face. "Hey!"

The Courier's figure stiffens as the Legionnaires below look up in surprise, Vulpes' expression darkening at the sight of the she-devil and her NCR sniper.

"Where'd you get those clothes?" Boone calls down, looking to the Courier eagerly. "At… the… _toilet_ store?"

The camera desperately whirrs between the Legionnaires below and the Courier, her face in her hands as she shakes her head slowly, Boone's mystified smile beginning to fade with the awkward air that clung to the area.

The focus of the lens begins to shake and fade out as the camera-man audibly begins to run from the area in escape, the sound of the Courier and Boone's foot-falls closely behind as some angry Latin erupts into the air.


	6. Chapter 6

_Video footage 00788_

_A heart to heart with Raul. Presidential suite, Lucky 38._

The camera fades in onto the Courier slumping over the dinner table, several empty, discarded whiskey bottles fanned out around her seat.

A hand belonging to the camera-man appears to move the pre-war plant-leaf out of the lens, then focusing in on the Courier's face. The light of the kitchen picks up on the old tears once streaming down the woman's face, Six giving a sad sniff as the door to the kitchen opens hesitantly.

The ghoul's head pops in, scanning the room briefly before settling his wise gaze on the woman sitting at the table. He makes a face before stepping into the kitchen, quietly closing the door behind him.

The Courier lifts her head up momentarily at the sound of footsteps behind her, only to shrink down further into her seat, her lower lip quivering as she pushes an empty bottle away from her.

"Hey Boss…" Raul sighs as he sits next to the young woman, eyeing her runny nose and red eyes with a fatherly look of affection. The focus zooms in on this, following Raul's hesitant hand as it rests on the Courier's shoulder. "I, uh, heard what happened at the Fort."

Six winces, the sound of her nails scratching against her arm breaking the brief silence before she shrugs, glancing at Raul before blinking a new set of tears from her eyes.

"It's not you, niña… it's…" Raul struggled, narrowing his eyes in thought as the Courier eyed an abandoned whiskey bottle with a spacey look about her face. "It's those Legion boys, Boss. They know you're real tough, that's why you can't fight in the arena. They're scared."

Six continues to stare at the bottle, not bothering to look up at her companion.

"They go by a certain religion, you know that. Legion doesn't realize that women can really do stuff, just as good as us hombres…" Raul continues, shaking his head sadly. "Men used to be like that before the war, did you know that Boss? I mean, I don't like killing women any more then the next normal man—er, or ghoul—but even an old goat like myself knows that ladies, young and old, can really kill a man if you don't watch out."

Raul looks over curiously at Six as the lens zooms in closer on the two friends, the ghoul's expression thoughtful as he studies the young woman's blank face. "You hear me, Boss?"

Six looks up, startled, at Raul, her brow drawn together as she wipes her nose with the back of her hand. "What? Did you say something?"

Raul pauses for a moment, narrowing his eyes.

"Look, I don't speak Spanish Raul, I told you that once already."

The ghoul shakes his head as he stands to leave, rubbing the back of his neck as he waves a dismissing hand at Six.

* * *

><p><strong>Tribute to Danny Trejo's cameo in Anchorman.<strong>


	7. Chapter 7

_Video footage 00806_

_The Rotface interview, for public appreciation of Courier Six._

The camera fades in on the homeless ghoul, Rotface, looking around the Atomic Wrangler warily, the beer bought for him sitting abandoned on the table he sits at.

In the background the unfocused image of the Courier and her two female companions, Cass and Veronica, sitting at a bar is visible, but only slightly as the lens concentrates on the dirty ghoul.

A throat is cleared, presumably belonging to the camera-man given the volume of the sound, and the ghoul looks up at the man before nodding, looking into the camera stiffly.

"So, you wanna know about… that Courier, right? And her two ladies?" Rotface asks, speaking as if remembering a line. The ghoul sighs, shaking his head before leaning into the camera slightly. "Those are some mean girls, lemme tell you."

The camera gives a visible shake, as if the man operating it drew back in surprise, before slowly turning away from Rotface and focusing in on the three aforementioned women at the bar, the ghoul's voice narrating the scene.

"That one there, on the right, that's Cass—or _Rose of Sharon Cassidy_." Rotface snorts, the lens focusing in on the woman as the whiskey bottle tossed to her hits her breasts and bounces onto the bar dejectedly. "She is one of the _dumbest_ women you will ever meet. She paid me for some information once, asked me how to spell 'New Vegas'…"

The camera lens follows Cass as she downs the bottle of whiskey, only to belch loudly before slumping forward suddenly, her head hitting the bar counter loudly before she falls like a dead-weight to the ground, snoring before she even hits the floor.

"That little one on the end? That's Veronica Santangelo." The camera focuses in on said woman, following her expression as Cass' empty whiskey bottle is thrown from off camera at the side of her head. "She's totally smart because that Brotherhood Elder, Father Elijah, taught her all this shit about tech. Also, she knows everything about everyone, just 'cause she hacked that eyebot's recording server."

The camera focuses in suspiciously on the eyebot, ED-E, as he hovers close by the Brotherhood scribe rubbing her head with a wince. "That's why she wears that hood, it's _full of secrets_."

As the camera withdraws from the image of Veronica, Rotface gives a laugh, the blurred image of his head shaking seen before the lens concentrates on The Courier.

"And evil takes a human form in _Courier Six_. Don't be fooled, because she _may_ seem like your typical selfish, back-stabbing slut faced brahmin-humper, but in reality, she's _so much more_ than that." Rotface narrates the image of Courier Six smiling deviously at the door-guard of the Atomic Wrangler, walking her fingers flirtatiously up the breast-plate of his leather armor. "She's the queen-bee of New Vegas—the _star_, those other two are just her little workers."

The camera follows the image of Courier Six glaring down in disgust at Cass, watching the woman trying to claw her way back up to her barstool as Veronica beckons ED-E over with a waggle of her finger.

"How do I even begin to describe Courier Six…?"

The film cuts to a slideshow, combining the opinions of various citizens around Freeside.

"Courier Six is flawless…" A Freeside citizen beams into the camera, attempting to straighten her shabby clothing despite her miniscule time on camera.

Mick is shown leaning against the wall of his shared shop with Ralph, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. "She has _two_ Ballistic Fists, and a premium customized Fat-man."

"I hear her brain is insured for 100,000 caps."

"I hear she does films..." A gang-member of the Kings grins, winking at his companions before leaning into the camera. "In _New Reno_…"

Two girls stand awkwardly in front of the camera, though they're smiling eagerly to themselves as they are filmed. "One time, Benny from The Tops casino shot her in the head."

The other girl then giggles, looking back at the Tops behind her. "And then afterwards he _slept _with her!"

"One time, she punched me in the face…" A Freeside thug smiles ecstatically, his nose pointedly broken and cast askew on his face. "It was _awesome_…"

* * *

><p><strong>God, these are so fun to write.<strong>


	8. Chapter 8

**I'd like to dedicate this to the _Sarah Silverman Program_, particularly the episode: _The Proof is in the Penis_ from which this was inspired by. That is all.**

* * *

><p><em>Video <em>_footage__ 00867_

_The "__Money__ Management__" __Incident.__The __Lucky__ 38__ casino,__ presidential__ suite._

The camera focuses in slowly on Six's companions mingling in the recreational room. Boone and Raul are seen revolving around the pool table in the midst of their game, sharing small talk consisting mostly of Raul's stories.

The lens shifts to the table in the far corner, where Arcade, Cass, and Veronica all sit, all seeming to be concentrating on the clipboard in front of the doctor.

"I don't think she'll go for this shit, Gannon. You know how she is…" Cass sighs, glaring briefly into the camera as it nears the table.

"Well, it doesn't really matter if she goes for it." Arcade replied, rolling his shoulders in a stretch as the distant _ping_ of the elevator sounds in the background, followed by Victor's happy drawl. "This needs to be done, needs to be said! I'm sorry if I'm being a bit _pushy_, but I'd rather not have my caps thrown at hookers every Tuesday night."

"But every Tuesday at Gomorrah is Taco Tuesday." Veronica chirped in, a wry smile on her round face. "That's Six's favorite night."

Arcade's face scrunches at the innuendo of the title, looking up at Veronica in something resembling disappointment. "I thought we had a talk about Six going to Gomorrah, you know how bad that looks politically?"

Before Veronica can defend herself the camera lens is focusing eagerly on Courier Six as she bursts into the room, the strength of the door sending the old jukebox in the corner stuttering, causing an awkward—though oddly appropriate—record screech to echo through the room.

Six pauses in her large grin as she looks around the room at the faces off-camera, her face scrunching in confusion at the uncomfortable silence as she adjusts the scaly pelt covering her body.

"'Sup?" She shrugs, the direction that her eyes are focused in making it obvious that she's sharing a challenging scowl with Arcade Gannon. "Like my Deathclaw costume?"

"Is that what that is?" Veronica slowly asks, the camera briefly focusing on the details of the jacket, including the large, vacant eyes that peer out at the room from above Six's own gaze, large teeth nearly obscuring her face, vaguely looking like yellow prison bars. "Looks expensive, top quality."

"It is, Veronica, thank you." Six nods, striding into the room proudly, despite the hollowed out deathclaw head sitting upon her own. "Very Vulpes-chic, right?"

"Yup."

"Okay, no, you know what Six? Its not." Arcade exclaims in exasperation as the Courier begins to model the reptilian pelt for a slowly approaching Boone. "It looks like you're giving a deathclaw a piggy back-ride and you smell disgusting now. How much did that even cost, you do realize that you have to pay us, right?"

"Ouch, Gannon." Six mumbles, the deathclaw hand encasing her own touching dramatically to her heart. "I took a bath a week ago. Or, like two weeks ago. Whatever, I don't stink. _You_ do."

"Oh, yeah, really? Real mature, truly." Arcade snaps, the camera briefly focusing on the flustered doctor as Cass leans over experimentally to sniff at the blonde man's coat. "Listen, Six, we all need to speak with you about your spending habits…"

"Yeah, what of it?" She challenges, causing the room to collectively wince in anticipation as she rests her twin deathclaw gloves on her hips, nearly disemboweling herself in the process.

"Well, firstly, you spent what was probably a ridiculous amount of caps to dress up like a _deathclaw_." Arcade presents in unison with Boone's experimental poking of the flabby, scaled skin that hangs from Six's arms, two large for the woman's body. "Secondly, I hear from Veronica that you're attending every Taco Tuesday at Gomorrah. Remember that talk we had about public image?"

"Aw, _Veronica_!" Six whines to the scribe, who in turn gives an apologetic shrug.

"No, don't blame her." Arcade shakes his head earnestly before standing up and striding across the room quickly, pausing in his departure only to point a long finger in Six's face. "We're putting a limit on your spending. You are now, officially, only allowed to buy the necessities. No deathclaw costumes, no—um—_tacos_, and no more of those tapes from New Reno."

Six gasps indignantly as she stares down her friend retreating the room, the camera focusing in on her slowly comprehending expression. She then slumps childishly before shuffling with some difficulty after the doctor, the over-stretched deathclaw skin nearly tripping her.

* * *

><p><em>One<em>_ week__ later__…_

The camera slowly fades in on the scene of the five companions sitting around the kitchen table, in their various states of eating and socializing.

There is a brief focus on Arcade's content expression as he tucks into his seat, neatly slicing an apple as he exhales quietly.

"I guess you were right." Cass offers around the iguana she is attempting to chew. "I don't think Six has bought anything besides food and ammo for a good while now."

"I think it was the easel idea." Veronica agrees with a light elbow to the doctor's side. "Good thing I suggested it, huh? Really presents the big picture to Six."

"I don't think I'll ever try to explain something to her without an easel and a five step plan…" Arcade nodded as the camera focuses in on the door behind him, only the back of Six's pre-war pajamas seen as she closes the door behind her.

The conversation is dropped upon the new arrival, a collective silence gathering amongst the table as Six makes her way to the table with a bowed head, sitting beside Arcade without a word and descending on the breakfast left for her.

Lily is the one to break the awkward air—clearly oblivious to it in the first place—and grins terrifyingly at the Courier as she plops a steaming lump of Brahmin meat onto the woman's plate. "GOOD MORNING DEARIE."

Six then raises her head with something of a maniacal smile on her face, the sight of the large, bushy mustache furiously lining her upper lip causing an eruption of many different reactions around the table.

Arcade's private smile droops into an awkward sort of teeth-baring grimace, Veronica narrows her eyes and leans forward across the table in discreet observation, Cass snorts loudly and unfortunately begins to gag on the iguana lodged in her throat, Raul touches his flaking fingers to his own decaying mustache self-consciously, and Boone swallows nervously as he reflexively leans back from the shocking sight.

"Hello everyone." Six hums, stroking at her mustache in a disturbing sort of way as the camera focuses in on the facial hair slowly. "What a lovely morning we're having, real nice weather, hm?"

Six looks out expectantly at her stunned companions, the awkward air only briefly interrupted by Lily's very vocal Heimlich maneuver on Cass.

"_Oh_, you're _probably_ reacting to the extra hair I have on my face… _Funny_ story!" The Courier laughs cheerfully, the camera pausing briefly in its studying of the Courier's mustache to focus in dramatically on Boone's pale, gaping expression. "My wonderful friend, Arcade here, very generously explained to me the importance of proper cap-spending. So, therefore, I have not been able to afford to wax my facial hair for the past couple of days…"

The silence continues as Six gives a foreboding laugh, patting a still-grimacing-Arcade on the shoulder as Cass pants and coughs loudly in the background.

"So, I guess, congratulations to Arcade on this most unique achievement!"

Veronica then took the opportunity to clear her throat, eyes still narrowed in vast curiosity as she nods pointedly to the facial hair. "Hey, Six—um, why don't I just lend you the money for the waxing? It's really no trouble on my end…"

The Courier touches a hand to her chest with a kind smile on her face that is almost completely masked by the coarse, black hairs that curl from her lip.

"Veronica, no, I'm _sorry_, but that's just completely counter-active." Arcade finally snaps out of his trance, shaking his head in what looks to be exhaustion as the camera focuses in on the Courier and the doctor. "Listen, Six, there _is_ a way that you can actually _get_ the money for your… um, facial—waxing—_needs_…"

"Ooh?" The Courier turns to Arcade with that same crazed smile, cocking her head to the side patiently.

Arcade returns the smile in a rather fake fashion, nodding with a look usually reserved for Boone as he begins in a slow, drawn out tone. "You can get a _job_—,"

There is a collective gasp around the table as Six gives Arcade a light, humiliating slap to his cheek, glasses knocked askew as the Courier then leans aggressively into the doctor's gaping face.

The camera eagerly focuses in on the scene as Six's lip curls angrily, her finger pointing threateningly in the doctor's face as Boone at her side slowly pulls a giant combat knife from underneath the table, his blank expression focusing on the camera lens nervously as he holds the knife up in anticipation.

Arcade leans away from the Courier warily as she breathes on his face, mustache twitching as she pokes her finger against his nose. "Don't you _ever_ say that word to me…"

There is a lingering tension even after the Courier leans back to her own seat, Arcade's lip giving a very discreet tremble as he touches his fingers to the reddening cheek previously abused.

The camera focuses out suddenly as the Courier stands from her seat, brushing imaginary dirt from her clothing before she looks around at the table disapprovingly. "Well, I'll leave you all to be disgusting conspirators… I got shit to do."

The lens follows the Courier as she turns to leave the kitchen, pausing only to slam her hands up underneath the tray of biscuits that the Nightkin grandmother had previously prepared and was then carrying to the table, causing the baked goods to fly wildly around the room as the tray tumbles loudly to the floor.

A cacophony of gasps erupts, but not before the Courier turns to the camera with a large grin spread across her mustache, eyeing the ruined biscuits and the flustered nightkin before shrugging. "Oh don't worry about the biscuits, I was just kidding."

* * *

><p><strong>I really, really hope everyone got that and it came off sufficiently funny and not really fuckin' weird and confusing. For reference, I suggest watching the <em>Sarah Silverman Program<em>.**


End file.
